


Broken Glass (Always & Forever)

by smittentj



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, I Don't Even Know, I tried ok, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, PROTECT THEM, Pain, Sweet Confessions, TJ Deserves Happiness, Violence, angst angst and more angst, asking for help, but i poured my heart into this, comforting cyrus, cyrus helps so much, god angst, hurt tj, its just so angsty, this is bad sorry, we love our sweet boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-30 23:37:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17233295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smittentj/pseuds/smittentj
Summary: he finally found a safe haven.





	Broken Glass (Always & Forever)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. I poured my heart and soul into this story. I needed some angst, I'm sorry. Anyway, tell me what you think, leave me requests, and comment if you want more posts :))

TJ didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do, how to stop it, and it was killing him. He stomped through the upstairs hallway in frustrated sorrow, his nikes loudly hitting the floor with every step. 

Angry tears clouded the basketball player’s vision, and he closed his eyes, refusing to let them fall. 

Be a man. 

Be a man. 

He chanted the mantra in his head, his face contorting as the tears finally fell. 

He could hear the violent sounds of plates shattering, of his parents yelling at each other in the middle of a particularly bad fight. 

The fifteen year old reached his room at the end of the hall, quietly closing the door and locking it in an attempt to keep the violence and the noise out.

A quiet, frustrated sob escaped his lips. He walked to his wall, punching it over and over. 

His knuckles bruised, hurt worse with each hit. 

He held his face in his shaking hands, a strangled yell coming up from his lungs. His breathing quickened. He couldn’t fix this, and it hurt so bad. 

More yelling from downstairs. 

More crashes. 

He was so tired. So tired of the fighting, so tired of being helpless, so tired of blaming himself. He was exhausted. He walked around his room, blind with anger and exhaustion. 

TJ stood in the middle of the room, staring into the mirror on his wall. 

He saw an ugly, weak mess. 

He saw tears streaming down his bruised face. 

He saw a contorted expression on the face of the boy staring back. 

Another yell. His mother’s yell. 

He broke.

He no longer had control of himself, of any of his movements. 

He stomped forward, and he swung. Pain seethed through him as his fist hit the glass, shattering it against his skin. His knuckles split, blood trickling down them. Glass splintered in his knuckles.

His breath was trapped inside him. 

He sunk to the floor, back against the wall as he sobbed. He held his fist in his other hand, red seeping on to his skin. He needed help. 

His hand shook as he reached for his phone, pulling it out of his pocket. He turned it on, entering calls. He pressed a contact. He lifted the phone to his ear, quiet sobs still erupting from him. 

“Please,” he whispered, tired and helpless. Someone picked up the phone.

“Cyrus?” he sniffed. 

“TJ? TJ, are you okay? What’s wrong?” TJ could hear the worry lining his friend’s voice.

“I...I need help.” He hiccuped. 

“TJ, where are you? Can you come over? Are you hurt?” 

A sob left his mouth. “I’m coming over.”

“Okay. Bring your stuff. I’ll be waiting.” TJ hung up. He packed sweatpants and a hoodie in his drawstring bag, failing to keep them from staining red. 

He snuck out of his window, the noise from the kitchen still ringing in his ears as he walked across the lawn. 

Jacketless, he walked through the cold. The chilled wind hit his wound, and he flinched. He walked and walked until he reached the familiar house of the Goodmans. 

He snuck around to the back of the house, climbing up to Cyrus’ window. He knocked on the glass with his less damaged hand, and the window opened within seconds. 

He climbed into Cyrus’ room, dropping his stuff on the floor. 

Immediately, the small brunette wrapped TJ in his arms, rubbing his back. TJ buried his face in the younger boy’s neck, letting his sobs escape him. 

Cyrus whispered words of comfort to him, hugging him harder than he had ever hugged anyone. 

When TJ’s cries quieted, Cyrus held his face in his hands, looking into the taller boy’s tired eyes. He spoke in a whisper. “You’re safe. I promise.”

TJ exhaled. 

“You’re hurt!”

Cyrus led him to his bed, a queen. The younger examined TJ’s wounds, concern covering his face as he fled to the bathroom to retrieve his first aid kit.

He returned to the bed with bandages, medicine, wipes, tweezers, and scissors. Gently, he removed the glass from the cuts, and cleaned his knuckles. He held TJ’s hand in his as he applied medicine and bandaged the older boy’s hand. He gave TJ pain medication. 

When he was done tending to TJ’s wound, he sent the basketball player to the bathroom with his pajamas, and he changed into his own. 

When TJ returned, he was pulled under the covers and wrapped in the arms of the brunette. The younger boy leaned against the headboard, TJ’s head on his chest.

Cyrus gently ran his fingers through TJ’s dirty blonde hair, attempting to give him at least some comfort. His other hand ran along the older boy’s face, softly tracing the black and blue that littered it. He counted TJ’s freckles, the ones that were only visible up close.

TJ’s eyes opened slowly. His breathing had steadied under the comfort of his best friend, his crush, his world. 

He stared up at Cyrus, his hand traveling up to squeeze the younger boy’s hand gently. TJ spoke.

“It was my dad.”

“What?”

“He hits me. My whole family, actually.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He said he would hurt me worse if I told. I-I’m scared, Cyrus.” 

“Let me help you. Please, let me help you. I’ll tell my parents. You can stay here.” 

“What if he hurts my mom? What if he hurts Amber?

“Let me tell them, please. We can get him away from your family, okay? I promise.” 

“Okay.”

They rested silently. TJ grasped the fabric of the younger boy’s t-shirt, playing with the hem. He wondered how Cyrus could make him feel safe like this, how Cyrus managed to break down the walls that had been up for so long. 

TJ looked up at the boy once again.

“Cyrus?”

“Yes, TJ?”

It came in a whisper. 

“I’m in love with you, you know that?”

“Oh.” He grabbed TJ’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m in love with you, too.”

Cyrus moved his hand so that he was softly resting it on TJ’s face. His thumb grazed the taller boy’s cheekbone. TJ placed his hand on top of Cyrus’. Slowly, the space between them lessened. 

Before the distance closed, there was a pause. Their breathing mixed for just a moment. And then, Cyrus bridged the gap. 

Their lips moved slowly, softly, gently. There was a buzz of electricity, a hum of familiarity. It felt like the first kiss and the thousandth kiss. It felt like safety. It felt like comfort. It felt like everything TJ had ever dreamed of and more. It felt like home. 

Cyrus was his home. Cyrus would always be his home. 

As they pulled away, their heartbeats synced. Cyrus rubbed TJ’s cheekbone, the touch light as a butterfly landing. A small smile found its way across the older boy’s lips, and was returned sweetly. 

“Thank you, Cyrus.”

“For what?”

“For being my safe haven. For being my home.”

“Always.” 

“Always?”

“And forever.”

And suddenly, TJ knew he would be okay. He was ready to tell his story. He knew he was finally safe. Because he had his safe place. He had a home. He had Cyrus. 

And that was everything.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading // i hope you got what you were hoping for from this story // comment if you have a request or if you want more posts from me (comment what you thought and leave kudos) :))))


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